Of Love, Betrayal, and Death

One question often pops up in my head nowadays. How to make your life normal? After all these years it has been officially proven that my life could be labelled as anything except that N word. I make odd life choices. I always end up meeting odd people. Or I share odd relationships with normal people. I gather odd experiences, which sometimes border on being fatal. A part of me is irrevocably damaged because of those encounters I can guarantee. I mean I know I can never lead a normal life. Partly because people around me always turn out to be the first class sons of bitches. Inevitably and invariably. And partly because I am a psychopath. Chaos and instability turn me the fuck on. Result? I live in a world where everything is made of fatal, toxic waste. And even when a normal person steps in the poor bastard turns into a freak and when it all ends and the person fucks off for good they dump their share of toxic garbage behind.

When my last boyfriend dumped me he cited the reason that I had volatile personality disorder. Unfortunately, his accusations made me more volatile. I wanted to slash his throat and mourn him after that. I wanted to tie him to a chair and sit in front of him and ask him this one question. How the fuck a person can keep her sanity intact when all she has experienced in life is people screwing her over? No. I am not a victim. I would hate to be one. I am a fighter. But when life breaks you, one experience, one person at a time, some changes happen inside you. Something dies inside you. It's the opposite of being a vampire. You continue to live but you are no longer alive. And then someone comes along and they try to kiss you and the coldness of your lips freaks them out. They take a step back and peer at you. "Fuck you are so frigid". You smile but that doesn't reach your eyes. "Well I am not frigid. I am just not alive anymore. Does necrophilia turn you on by any chance?" They run for their life. Well, can you blame them?

I hate people. Well except a few handful ones. Like my best friends, or the uncle from Darjeeling, or Mr. Bhutia, or Kuntala di. I think I love my asshole ex still as well. Parents and brother are out of this list as I am biologically obligated to love them. (I do love them, not as an obligation. Don't get me wrong.) But rest of the people? I fucking hate them all. The guy who has been sweet-talking me on his way down into my pants. The whimpering privileged brat whose biggest crisis in life is that his whore girlfriend dumped his sorry ass. The incompetent, hypocrite boss who has never worked shit in his life but now sits in the chair of the boss and judges you. (I hate that motherfucker the most.) The fuckface ex (different one) who is now begging me to take him back but never gave two fucks when I truly cared. And all the fucking hypocrite lying pricks who have proved it to me that nothing good ever comes from trusting people. I hate them all. It says that a murderer requires only two things. Motive and opportunity. I have no dearth of the first one. It's just the latter I am more concerned about. Because I profusely refuse to end up in a prison.

If I were in a book or movie I would make a stellar protagonist. Conflict sells more than happiness. People love dubious characters. We love our Hannibals and Lokis. But living a life of endless darkness? It's like being condemned to hell for the rest of the eternity. The other day I was reading about types of suicidal tendencies. And some insight really amazed me. Apparently being suicidal is not always about thinking about killing oneself. Being suicidal is also when you wait for that opportunity to be killed. So you drink more hoping your liver might give in one day. You smoke hoping to get lung cancer. You jaywalk in the hope to get run over. Every night you go to bed praying to that invisible monster under the bed to come and take you home. You are too much of a chickenshit to kill yourself but you don't want to live either.

Death is no longer an enemy I try to avoid. Death has become my lover. And I know he will never betray me.